


Linguistics

by Kittie



Category: Teen Titans (Comics)
Genre: Dubious Consent, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-14
Updated: 2013-08-14
Packaged: 2017-12-23 10:21:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/925223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kittie/pseuds/Kittie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He doesn't know how this started.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Linguistics

He’s not sure how this even  _started._

Dick had come to him yelling and screaming about one thing or another while Roy looked on confused as hell and temper rising. The words were accusatory as they were hurled at him— even if he didn’t understand a single one of them.

Fists flew; started by Roy, pinning; also started by Roy, and then — some how there’s rough, teeth filled kisses as their bodies slide together in a natural way neither has to think about. Dick’s still babbling in some freakin’ weird ass language but the universal calls of his body are something Roy knows better than probably Batman. 

And, well, you don’t have to be  _too_  smart when it come to what Dick needs if a bulge is throbbing and pressing into his thigh.

The acrobat approves if curling and canting hips against his muscled thigh is anything to go by, “Shit, I ain’t got a fuckin’ idea what you’re saying, short pants.” He breathes out. Breath is hard to come by as he shifts his hips to roll into the overly welcoming warm of Dick’s clothed body.

"Va. ** _Va_**.” Dick’s gasping out, fingers trying to grab onto Roy’s short red hair. The archer takes the cue to fold over, mouths meshing together as he continues to rut against the acrobat’s hard body. 

"Got no, ‘ng, fuckin’ idea, ah, what yer sayin’—" Roy groans out as Dick twists and that’s all it is to it. Roy’s bowing into the pliant body as the smaller, lithe male arches into hard muscles.

Moments pass, both regretting the lack of removal of their pants. It’s going to be uncomfortable as hell later, he muses. Richard reaches up, cupping Roy’s cheek as he gives the sloppiest smile he could muster to distract the archer whose face had morphed into something unpleasant for post coitus.

"Glad to know if I can’t speak an English you know I need sex."

"Uh, sure." Roy mutters under his breath, falling to the sides, both trying to regain their breath, "…What were ya sayin’ though?"

"I couldn’t speak until we fornicated."

"…Well then."

"You didn’t have a clue, did you?"

"Nope."

"You horndog."

“ _Bite me_ , shortpants.”

"I’m pretty sure I _did_.”


End file.
